And the real trouble comes when I’m in the middle of a really good (and all consuming) binge session. Even if it’s a show I’ve seen plenty of times.

For example, last night I got caught up in a Gilmore Girls whirlwind. What with the thrilling news that GG is returning to us! I watched a couple episodes on TV and then realized the series was on Netflix. Next thing I know, it’s 3 o’clock in the morning, I’m midway through season 7 and I have a queasy feeling in my stomach because all the unresolved, dramatic television issues will have to wait till morning, because it was bedtime about 4 hours ago. So I go to bed, but can’t sleep because Luke and Lorelai are fighting. And I don’t like when they’re fighting. Why couldn’t I have started in on season 5, when they had just gotten together and life was good and my stomach wasn’t queasy it was filled with imaginary, TV butterflies (which I tell people I hate, but secretly…i think I like the butterflies. But only the imaginary kind, cause I’ve rarely felt them in real life about a real boy, so what do I know.)

And now this blog post is reading like an episode of Gilmore Girls. What with those long run on sentences and the fast talking retoric, that you need a pause button just to keep up with. But see…that’s how much I love TV shows. The best parts seep into my life. The best parts seem to stick around like fond memories that you look back on and smile about. No, those events didn’t happen to me, but for 7 long years I watched it unfold. And yes, I’m a grown woman capable of discerning fantasy from reality (more on that later.)

And what was I talking about again?
Oh…right! TV!
Well, I love it…what else needs to be said!
(wink)